


Running up that Hill

by suzbc



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Angst, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-29 06:52:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6363847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzbc/pseuds/suzbc





	Running up that Hill

Running up that Hill

Placebo – Covers  
—————————————————————————————  
It doesn’t hurt me

You wanna feel, how it feels?

You wanna know, know that it doesn’t hurt me?

You wanna hear about the deal I’m making

You, you and me

And if I only could

Make a deal with God

And get Him to swap our places

Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

Be running up that building

If I only could

You don’t wanna hurt me

But see how deep the bullet lies

Unaware that I’m tearing you asunder

And there’s a thunder in our hearts, baby

There’s so much hate for the ones we love?

Tell me, we both matter, don’t we?

You, you and me

You and me, won’t be unhappy

If I only could

Make a deal with God

And get Him to swap our places

Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

Be running up that building

If I only could

Come on, baby, come on, come on, darling

Let me steal this moment from you now

Come on, Angel, come on, come one, darling

Let’s exchange the experience

And if I only could

Make a deal with God

And get Him to swap our places

Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

With no problems

And if I only could

Make a deal with God

And get Him to swap our places

Be running up that road

Be running up that hill

With no problems

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

If I only could

Be running up that hill

—————————————————————————————-

Castiel has been slowly loosing his mojo. Dean’s not sure how it works exactly, but whenever the Angel is near he can feel it, he feels exactly how much Cas hurts now. And all Dean knows is that doesn’t want to feel it, feel how he feels. He wants to go back to knowing that he doesn’t feel, knowing that he can’t be hurt. Because all Dean’s ever wanted is for his family to be safe and happy and that includes Cas. It doesn’t help that everyone is so sure that Cas is falling and not just falling but falling for Dean, falling because of Dean. So he’s been hitting the books at Bobby’s way more than usual these days. Desperately looking for something, anything to help his friend not loose his mojo, not loose who he is.

Of course Castiel is still an Angel of the lord and as he falls he can tell that Dean is on edge in his presence and so he is keeping his distance from the hunter. Of course the problem is that said hunter feels overwhelmed by both his own and Castiel’s feelings whenever they are in the same room. Cas never did explain that profound bond that they supposedly have. Dean is starting to think that this is a part of that somehow. The more he thinks about Cas, this bond between them, and Cas falling the more Dean feels and the more it hurts. And he really wants to hear about the deal Cas is making. Because maybe then, if he only could, he would make a deal with God and get him to swap their places.

“Hey Cas, Castiel look I know we haven’t been on the same page for a while, but I really need to talk to you…” Dean prays eyes closed to his Angel. He cracks an eye open to see if he’s there even if the telltale sound of wings fluttering would have tipped the hunter off to his arrival if he had in fact answered Dean’s call. “Dammit Cas, get your feathery ass down here!” Dean yells fresh anger surging through his veins at being ignored again.

Castiel hears Dean’s prayers of course, but he chooses to ignore his hunter’s call, not wanting to hear yet another half-baked plan to resuscitate his depleting Grace. He knows that all Dean really wants is it to hear about the deal he is making. And in his guilt he hasn’t stepped away from you, you, and me. Castiel thinks ‘if he only could see that it doesn’t hurt me’. If he only could see that this is what Castiel wants because it’s the only way he can; stay with Dean, live with Dean, grow old with Dean, and one day die with Dean.

And so Castiel tells himself that he doesn’t care that he’s falling, slowly becoming mortal. Especially if that means that he can stay with Dean and Sam, but mostly Dean. Sure he thinks he will miss Heaven and his brothers and sisters and probably most of all he will miss his Grace. Castiel just hopes that Dean will still accept him without his Grace; this thought, this fear, hurts him the most. It hurts more than all the new found mortal aches and pains his vessel feels put together. The uncertainty hurts more than the odd nauseous feeling when he sees Dean. More than the flip flopping heart in his throat can’t breathe sensation.

Castiel forcibly puts Dean Winchester out of his mind and continues to spy on the Daemon’s that have been plaguing a small community a few states over from Bobby’s home state of South Dakota. After centuries upon centuries of being an almost invincible Angel his dwindling Grace is responsible for the Daemon’s getting the upper hand when they catch Castiel off guard. Back at Bobby’s Dean’s body is flooded with pain so suddenly that he drops to his knees in the middle of the living room. The handprint on his shoulder throbbing and sending out sparks of radiating pain. After a few minutes Dean is finally able to pull himself to his feet as the knowledge that something is seriously wrong with his Angel filters through the pain. He didn’t even notice Sammy yelling his name, and shaking him while Bobby looked on with an uneasy look on his face.

Dean knows that Cas is in constant pain because he can feel it himself. Even worse he knows that Cas isn’t used to feeling pain because he supposed to be an unfeeling Angel not the almost human that he is. And so Dean panics and starts to pray to anything and anyone who might listen, anyone who might for any reason care to intervene. And Dean never prays but for him for Cas he is willing to do anything if it might save him. And so that is what he does: he prays. He prays in between barking instructions at his brother and foster Father.

Castiel has never known this much pain not even when he was forced back to Heaven for reprogramming was the pain this bad. It turns out that this was all a trap for him; his brother Raphael sold him out to these Daemons. Raphael gave them the means to capture and torture a falling Angel to death and slowly too. And so Castiel does the only thing available to him he retreats into his mind away from the depraved acts his captors are inflicting upon his vessel and his Grace. He retreats into his memories and his waking dreams; dreams that he had hoped might come to pass after his fall. He thinks of his hunter and his beloved Impala, which he affectionately calls Baby. He even fleetingly thinks of Sam and Bobby mostly about how they would have been his family too. Every once and while the pain breaks through and his true voice leaks through rattling the bones of the abandoned building he’s being held in.

Dean prays that he would take Cas’s place. He would do anything if he could just take his place. Sam and Bobby do their best to help Dean figure out where Castiel might be, but there is just no trace and no one around to even ask. And so mostly they try to keep Dean calm; they try to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Finally Dean gets an answer and it’s not from someone who has decided to help but from his Angel himself who in his delirium finally reached out and sent Dean a message. Dean of course took off like a shot not even bothering to tell neither Bobby nor his brother where he was headed.

 

Dean drove up that road like hell itself was hot of his trail. The road was long and winding and he disregarded every posted sign the Impala and he roared passed. Because they have to be running up that road. The final hill in sight is so steep that the Impala’s engine wails in protest but Dean slams his foot down and forces her up that hill. Because they have to be running up that hill. The abandoned building at the top, which he recognized from Castiel’s message, was impregnable from the ground and so up that building he went. Because they have to be running up that building. If I only could get to Castiel in time. If I only could…

Of course the Daemon’s holding Cas fight back when Dean crashes into the room they are holding him in. They are no match for the enraged hunter and although Dean doesn’t escape the fight unscathed he soon finds himself at Castiel’s side taking stock of his many, many injuries. Cas is laid out and curling into himself in his pain, tears streaking down his face and the only words he speaks is his name when he’s not begging them not to hurt him anymore. Dean tries to tell him that he’s there but he’s not sure if he is coherent anymore. Castiel continues to whimper and flinches at the slightest of touches.

 

The most worrying of Cas’s injuries is the bullet lodged deep in his gut, which was fired the moment Dean arrived from the barrel of none other that the Colt. The Colt that unfortunately has been altered to affect not Daemons but Angels. “Let see how deep the bullet lies.” Dean says aloud but every time he reaches in to try and fish the bullet out Cas screams in agony. Dean knows he has to get the bullet out as it is doing great damage to his friend even though Cas pleads with him to stop at every turn. Dean doesn’t realize until it’s too late that he is tearing him further asunder with his every effort to save him.

The sound of thunder claps overhead startling Dean out of his laser like focus. He glances up at Cas’s face just as lightening strikes lighting up his face in the dark. The sight of which stabs Dean’s heart clear through as he sees the sweat pouring down Cas’s face, which is contorted in agony. He starts to yell at Cas to fight to stay with him. Dean’s ragged voice tells Cas over and over that he’ll never forgive him if he dies, if he leaves him alone. The thunder in our hearts is alive in the skies above and can be heard and felt for miles and miles around.

But Dean’s a Winchester and Winchesters don’t give up and so he continues to rage at Cas’s now flaccid vessel screaming that he would hate him should he die on him. Too late he tells him that he doesn’t think he can live without him; that he doesn’t want to. He even goes so far as to tell him that he loves his stupid stubborn feathery ass. He tells him that they won’t be unhappy if he would just stay. He cries out brokenly his voice ragged and rough. If only, if I only could make a deal with God.

If I only could, make a deal with God, and get Him to swap our places. He prays that if he only got to Cas sooner. Dean prays that he only could have prevented the Daemon from shooting Cas with the Colt. If only the road had been shorter, the hill shorter, the building less somehow.

Come on, baby, come on, come on, darling… Cas appears as if he wants to speak but Dean steals the moment and pleads. Come on, Angel, come on, come on, darling. Let’s exchange the experience so that I could take your place. But the blood wouldn’t stop running from his wounds effectively drenching the ground, staining his hands and clothes as he tried in vain to stanch the flow.

 

Cas feels the last of his Grace being ripped from him and with one last soundless scream the sky above them rolls and crashes with sound and light finally opening up and dumping thousand of gallons of water in seconds. The entire surrounding area is completely changed as Cas’s grace separates from his vessel resulting in pure creation. The abandoned building, which was rather desolate before is now covered in life; vines twisted and wound into every crack and crevice effectively holding up the dilapidated structure with Bluebell creeper vines.

And if I only could, make a deal with God, and get Him to swap our places. Be running up that road; be running up that hill, be running up that building. If I only could… And so as Dean prays and rocks Cas’s vessel back and forth in his arms he finally succumbs to his own injuries and passes out with Cas clutched tightly in his arms. The imprint of Castiel’s wings scorched into the concrete under their entwined bodies.

As the blackness takes over his subconscious plays the entire scenario over and over. Every time he gets there too late, and every time Cas dies in his arms. And he can’t say that it doesn’t hurt him anymore.

The next thing Dean is aware of is the sound of a rhythmical beeping. As he swims up out of the blackness to consciousness once more his eyes open to reveal a blindingly white room filled with medical equipment and nothing more. Dean frantically searches his memories and as the failed rescue comes back to him he desperately reaches out to where Cas should be and finds nothing but a gaping emptiness in his soul where he once felt whole.

It feels as if something heavy is sitting upon his chest and every breath is a struggle and it has nothing to do with his injuries. Dean’s eyes flutter shut once more and he allows the darkness take him blotting out the pain into comforting nothingness. The next time Dean comes to the room is still too bright and filled with the unmistakable sounds of a hospital but he’s not alone this time. Sam is passed out in the chair next to the bed.

Dean uses the least amount of words and gestures required to convince the hospital to discharge him into his brother’s care and after a half a days drive he is able to lock himself into Bobby’s spare room. A few days is all Sam gives him before he intrudes and physically removes him from the room and he is trust into the shower the frigid water somehow breaking into the fog. Dean returns to hunting at his brothers side: it’s the only thing he knows and people still need saving.

Now every time he closes his eyes he see that hill and wishes that he only could be running up that hill on his way to say his Cas, his Angel, his Castiel. For a long time he continues to pray that he could swap their places. The blackness of unconsciousness doesn’t comfort him anymore, as it’s rife with images of his failure. And now there is so much hate for the one’s he loves. Because we both matter, don’t we?

And so the years pass and still he hunts, simply going through the motions until the day when he can finally make that deal with God and swap their places.


End file.
